


how it happens

by pastelskrulls



Series: Vent [3]
Category: Marvel, Patsy Walker AKA Hellcat
Genre: Based on experience, Gen, Men Being Creepy, Pedophilia, Unwanted Advances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:42:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelskrulls/pseuds/pastelskrulls
Summary: ever since she was 12, Patsy has had to deal with this, and how it happens.





	how it happens

When Patsy was 12, it happened like this: A man pulled his car up across the street from her house. He stared at her, sitting in the garden, playing dolls. He stayed for a few minutes before he rolled his window down and called her over. She put down her barbies and brushed the dirt off her exposed knees, scraped and red from falling from the playground last week. She skipped over to him, he had one arm resting on the sill of his open window, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.

When he spoke, his voice was low and gravely, “Hey there, little girl. How old are you?”

Patsy smiled, still too naive to be wary of the man. “I’m 12!”

The man frowned and nodded. “Too young,” he muttered. “Call me in a couple years.” He pulled away then, leaving Patsy standing on the hot tar road.

She turned and ran, gathering up her dolls and setting them inside. After that, she played in the backyard.

***

When Patsy is 14, it happens in so many ways, but especially like this: She’s walking down the street, hands in coat pockets to protect them from the cold January wind. She stands waiting for a bus, money clenched in fists, when a man walks up to her. He’s dressed in a cheap, polyester suit and scratched loafers.

“Do you have the time, little lady?” He asks her. She can see the glint of his watch as it catches the sun.

She plasters on a sickly sweet smile and pulls out her flip phone. “4:37,” she reads. He nods and steps an inch closer, breathing in her air.

In ten minutes, the bus comes, and she sits down next to an old woman, greeting her like an old friend. The man leaves.

***

It keeps happening, like this: She’s freshly 15, and it’s oddly warm for early March. Warm enough to warrant shorts and a half sleeved denim jacket. There’s a crisp breeze blowing, not enough to chill. It reminds her of spring. She decides to walk home, still fuming from a fight with Hedy.

When she’s about halfway to her house, a man stops her.

“You got any change?”

She smiles, “No, I’m sorry,” she says.

“You got a boyfriend?”

“Um, no.” She’s learned her lesson, so many times already.

“You should come to my room, 314 at the Motor Inn, we can smoke, and I’ve got a nice bed,” he said. He grabbed her wrist.

“I’m 15,” she said, instead of ‘Get your hands off me!’

“I won’t touch you, then,” he said. “But you should come.”

She pulled her arm free and left, wishing she’d taken the bus.

***

When she was 17, it went like this: Hedy shoved her into the boys locker room, and she could hear the lock click. The football team was staring at her, all in a state of undress. She pounded on the door, as the men drew closer, smiling like hungry sharks.

One boy rested a hand on her shoulder before pulling her away from the door, hands drifting lower and lower.

“Don’t touch me!” She yelled. The men laughed, cruel and harsh.

“Hey!” Buzz barked. “Get your hands off of her!”

The boy holding her dropped her like a burning pan, shoving her to Buzz. She stumbled into him, and he draped an arm around her, taking her away from the prying eyes and through the exit on the other side.

***

It only changed when she was 24. Then, it happened like this: She went out at night, jumping through the buildings, following screams. She was dressed in a bright yellow catsuit that hugged her body.

A thug dressed in a ridiculous rhino costume leered at her. He laughed, and said “Maybe I’ll take you home with me!”

“Don’t you dare!”

“If you don’t like it, why do wear that?” he gestured at her costume, at her.

She growled, feeling more and more like an animal each second, and pounced. She raked her claws across his face, letting out the rage that had been building since she was 12. She was done being afraid, now that she could protect herself. Now that she could protect others.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a lot based on my own life, mostly the first three, because i love projecting. find me on tumblr at scarrletwiccan


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